


Work with what you've got

by halfeatenmoon



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 2013 Stanley Cup Playoffs, Fighting, M/M, Pain Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfeatenmoon/pseuds/halfeatenmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andrew Shaw wants to punch Brad Marchand more than he wants to fuck him, but he'd still like to do the second part, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Work with what you've got

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this back during the SCF, never really intending to post it, but I found it today and thought hey, why not?

Cutting out fighting had been great for Andrew's hockey career, but it had kind of impaired his sex life.

He knew it was possible to have sex with guys without fighting them first, of course. Well. He'd probably done it at least once. He'd _tried_ , at least. He knew it was possible for other people to hook up without punching each other first, so he must be able to do it, right?

He just hadn't gotten the hang of the yet, so while it had been a great season, it had also been a bit of a dry spell. A dry spell which he was very, very close to breaking in the worst possible way, because he'd never played against Brad Marchand before, but as soon as they crossed paths on the ice, Andrew knew that he wanted to punch him and he wanted to fuck him.

He wanted to punch him more than he wanted to fuck him, really, but he was trying to just do the second part, and do it the normal way. Because he'd been told pretty firmly not to punch anyone in the Stanley Cup Final, and nobody had told him he wasn't allowed to fuck guys from opposing teams.

Though if he asked if he was allowed to fuck guys from opposing teams, Johnny would probably say no, and definitely not during the Final. But that was why he didn't ask.

So, he was going to get into Brad Marchand's pants. While they were playing each other in the Stanley Cup Final. Without fighting him. He could do this. Or, well, he tried.

The first step went flawlessly. The only challenge early in the game was catching Jesse Blacker when he wasn't either drunk or asleep, seeing as his season was already over. Once he got Jesse halfway coherent, though, he had no problem sending him Seguin's number. Even after Andrew explained why he wanted it. Or maybe because Andrew explained why he wanted it. Jesse seemed to kind of approve. Though he was still pretty drunk.

Talking Seguin into hanging out between games and bringing Marchy along, though, was a bit more of a challenge.

"But why do you want to hang out _now?_ " Segs asked, suspiciously, the third time Andrew called. They'd just arrived in Boston again, waiting on game three, which Andrew thought was the perfect time to get together. But Tyler disagreed. "You seem like an okay guy, and Jesse says you're great so it must be true, but how can I party with you when I'm trying to kick your ass in the Stanley Cup Final. Look, it'll be over in a week and then we'll have all summer."

"But we're here _now._ Why are you being so picky? Jesse said you wouldn't mind me partying with you and Marchy as long as I took my shirt off."

Segs just hung up on him. Again. Andrew was starting to think he wasn't nearly as much fun as Kaner and Jesse said he was.

Still, now he'd made a real effort to do things properly. He'd tried to get through to Marchand the 'normal' way, as best he could, anyway, and he'd been cockblocked by Tyler Seguin, of all people. He'd tried to be good.

He would have kept trying to get in Marchy's pants without punching him, except that he knew when an opportunity was too good to pass up. And there was no better opportunity for blameless fighting than when you were two goals down, your teammate got into it with Chara and Marchand decided to jump in. When Andrew pulled him out of the scrum and Marchy whirled around to scowl at him, Andrew just knew it was right. When Marchand smashed his helmet against Andrew's, muttering insults so close that Andrew could feel his breath on his lips, he knew he'd picked the right guy. And when he got Marchy on his back and drew back a fist to punch him, after days of wanting Marchy and months of waiting to punch someone, it honestly felt better than sex.

Which didn't mean Andrew didn't want to fuck him, too.

"Really?" Marchand growled, when Andrew cornered him in the carpark long after a game, shoved him against his own Jeep with his thigh between Marchy's legs. "Right now?"

"Fuck yeah." Andrew yanked his shirt out of his pants, clawing in the vague direction of his buttons. "No time like now."

"Um, how about when we're not in the Stanley Cup Final?"

"What is it with you guys? Do you have a no fucking during playoffs rule or something?" Andrew slammed a palm against the car, right next to Marchy's head, and leaning in until he was pressing their foreheads together again. "I wanna do it now, when we're fired up and pissed off and I can still remember what it's like to get my fist in your fucking face, okay?"

Marchand let out a shaky breath. "We can punch each other after the Final, too."

"Yeah, we could," Andrew said, pulling back a little so he could look him in the eye. "But whatever way this goes, when the Final's over, one of us isn't going to want to fuck, are we?"

For a moment, Marchand just stared at him, breathing heavily, as the realisation sunk in. Then he grabbed Andrew by the hair and kissed him like it was just another fight.


End file.
